


The Sweetest Thing

by ghostbustier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Humor, Ridiculous, Unrepentantly silly, this is not good writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbustier/pseuds/ghostbustier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: "Sam and Dean walk in to a honey factory, there is an explosion. Which do you rescue from the honey first and why?"</p><p>I'm not even sorry for how stupid and silly this is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Thing

I waited outside the honey factory with Bobby. We leaned against the Impala and I checked the time again. “How long dies it take to kill a ghost? I thought these two were professionals. I should go help them.”

There was a shirt bicker between Bobby but eventually he let me go in after them. It didn’t take long to find the two of them, tied on opposite sides of the empty warehouse. A strange device was exactly between them

“What on Whore Island happened here?”

Dean is the one who finally answers after a shamed pause. “It wasn’t a ghost. It was Old Man Jenkins! He tricked us! There’s a honey bomb and there isn’t enough time to save us both!”

“Wait,” I interrupt, “Old Man Jenkins? The janitor?? But he’s the one that told us about the haunting!”

“Like I said, TRAP.”

From the other side of the room, Sam cried out in fear and frustration. “Save me, please! My hair is too pretty to withstand the honey!!”

The look of concern on Dean’s face was nearly heartbreaking, and he nodded solemnly. “Save Sammy. I can hold out against the honey. GO!”

Without further hesitation, I cut Sam free and we bolted out of the room, slamming the door shut behind us. Both of us held our breathe until we heard the unmistakable boom-splat of the honey bomb. Sam choked back a sob, but those soulful eyes and bizarrely expressive eyebrows weren’t fooling anyone.

As he slid to the floor to grieve, I gave him a hug, long and heartfelt. Then with a steadying breath, I stood. “I’ll go get him, Sam. For you.” He can only reply with a defeated nod.

I open the door and run inside with abandon. The floor is slick and sticky at the same time. Sweetness hangs in the air but I can barely smell it. Then I see Dean, still tied to his chair, unconscious.

I run to him, cutting the rope free. I try to wipe the honey from his face, but it’s no use.

Dean’s eyes flutter open and he takes a moment to asses the situation for himself. Then he looks me in the eye as his trademark grin slips into place.

“You know, I think you’re going to have to lick me clean.”


End file.
